Quote #2
When I set out for Lyonnesse, A hundred miles away, The rime was on the spray, And starlight lit my lonesomeness.
More from Thomas Hardy
- These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.
- To discover evil in a new friend is to most people only an additional experience
- With all, the beautiful things of the earth become more dear as they elude pursuit; but with some natures utter elusion is the one special …
- To dwellers in a wood almost every species of tree has its voice as well as its feature. At the passing of the breeze the fir-trees sob and…
- Good, but not religious-good.
- Of course poets have morals and manners of their own, and custom is no argument with them.
- Like the British Constitution, she owes her success in practice to her inconsistencies in principle.
- A lover without indiscretion is no lover at all. Circumspection and devotion are a contradiction in terms.